


Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs

by Jetta058



Series: FF7 Plot Bunnies [3]
Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Restaurant, BAMF Cloud Strife, Gen, I use that tag a lot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-12
Updated: 2017-03-12
Packaged: 2018-10-03 02:20:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10233542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jetta058/pseuds/Jetta058
Summary: 15 year old Cloud and his mother run a popular little hole-in-the-wall in Midgar with Nibel specialty dishes. Cloud turns into a fanboy, deals with jerks, and fanboys again.





	

A small restaurant seemed to catch the eye of every ShinRa employee that walked the upper plate over the course of a year. It opened in late November, the mother-son duo country bumpkins with a flair for food taking everyone by storm. It was a small hole in the wall on Loveless that managed to smell of clean mountain air that made even native Midgardians nostalgic for things they’d never known. 

 

It managed a sharp contrast in being homey and quaint, everyone treated to a smile and country drawl that made even the crime bosses protective of the place. It was called Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs. 

 

Its specialty were savory Nibelheim meatballs, marinated to perfection in paprika, garlics, salts, and enough other spices that the delivery dock smelled of a spice market rather than the mako and trash others fermented. Every ShinRa employee found themselves there at least once, even if their workplace was in far off regions of the city. Returning infantry flocked there despite it being different than their own mother’s cooking: Mama Strife had effectively adopted all of them.

 

Her long suffering son took the brunt of it. He helped prep in the mornings, delivered orders, served when deliveries were slow or were short staffed and, despite being an obvious introvert, managed to only finish the homey feeling. His sweet accent had most of the girls cooing over him and his stammering and blushing only made it all the worse. He preferred the back, but the tips he received were well worth the harassment. If it were only the women, not the executives who could pay for anything, then he wouldn’t mind the extra income. They were paying back the Mayor of Nibelheim after all. 

 

The man had graciously (grudgingly) loaned Mama Strife the money to start the restaurant and helped keep it afloat. They both knew it was to finally get the Strifes out of Nibelheim, but it worked in their favor. The man was almost paid back and he knew he was eating his words. The pair were extremely popular but still living frugally by living over the tiny diner in a one bedroom apartment. They just ordered extra food when the shipments came in and made sure their own dinners lasted, though they didn’t sink to eating after customers after the first few weeks they were open. 

 

No, they were well beyond that, but still charmingly humble, at least according to the city dwellers. 

 

This particular evening was slow: their delivery service was running like crazy, but the glowing rain kept people from coming out. Cloud was helping in the kitchen, which Mama Strife was overseeing. He personally mixed the spices and portioned them out for each batch of ground beef. He was also chopping onions and garlic specially ordered from Nibelheim, setting them aside for the various other dishes they could go into. This kept him open in case the little bell on their front door actually rang at all. 

 

Patrick stood a few steps away, humming as he manned the stove, stirring their thickened beef soup and a pot of noodles at the same time. He was humming some catchy pop tune that Cloud had been avoiding and kept shooting him a playful stink eye when he got to the chorus and would start to sing out loud. 

 

He would only sing aloud then, head bobbing and his dark blue hair going a bit wild with unnecessary and overly enthusiastic headbanging. Cloud smacked his shoulder, the boy smacked him back and, as teenage boys were likely to do, it devolved into a bit of shoving. 

 

“Boys! Stoppit!” Mama Strife smacked them both at the same time, Cloud with a wooden spoon and Patrick with a spatula. 

 

“Nooo! Not the slaptula! I’ll be good I swear!” The boy cried and gave an exaggerated sniff. 

 

“No you won’t.” Cloud singsonged as he went back to slicing up garlic. “Also, the noodles are boiling over.”

 

“Yes I- GAH!” Patrick snagged the lid, tossed it to the side and began blowing on the noodles. 

 

Cloud yelped in pain as his hand was covered by the hot lid and the boiling water inside began to burn his hand. He yanked it back, the lid flying across the kitchen with more noise than strictly necessary along with a few minced pieces of garlic. Mama Strife was already there with a cold rag to wrap around his hand and quieted Patrick’s frantic apologies.

 

“It’s really ok-” the bell jingled and interrupted Cloud, “I got it!” He turned and began loosening his apron, “Stop making the sad eyes! It's ok!”

 

His hand was scalded red beneath the rag, but wouldn’t be blistering if the remaining sting was any indication. Sure, it hurt, but his hands were already toughening up from such incidents in the cramped prep area and carrying near-boiling soups regularly. Cloud rewrapped his hand and tucked the end in so he could write their orders if he needed it. 

 

He pulled the apron over his head and hung it on the doorframe going back to the kitchen. It was hardly 20 feet to the door so he began the spiel, “Welcome to Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs! I’m Cloud, I’ll be your server toni-” He hugged the menus close to his chest and very nearly went bug eyed. “Tonight.” he finished in a small voice, covering his face a little with the menus. “Please feel free to sit anywhere!” 

 

In front of him stood a decent sized group of SOLDIERS, all higher ranking if he could tell (and he could) by their uniforms. Though they stood in the back, the Holy Trinity were there. The rest seemed to be a group of another five Seconds and Thirds, all looking greatly amused at his sudden stutter. “I told you he was cute.” said someone from the herd. 

 

Cloud sucked in a mental breath as they seated themselves by pushing two of the tables together.  _ Be professional Cloud, you can do this. _ After everyone was seated, he passed around menus, managing to keep a straight face as his own hero watched him.  _ Oh Gaia, Sephiroth. _ “Our specials tonight are beef soup, Nibelheim style chocobo wings, and smoked Zolom. Our desert for the evening blackberry cobbler with your choice of ice cream.” He untucked the pen from behind his ear and got ready to write. “What drinks can I get you all?” 

  
  


His legs nearly gave out when he got back to the kitchen and Mama Strife looked concerned for all of two seconds. She peeked out over the swinging door and smiled a little. “I’ll help you with the drinks dear.” Cloud’s inarticulate noise made her laugh and she would never tell her baby that the boys he’d just seated were all chuckling softly too. Except for one, he snorted behind his hand in his desperation to keep quiet. She’d have to give the violet eyed boy a run for his money.

 

The pair got their drinks together from the fountain quickly, mixing the iced tea half sweet and half unsweetened, pouring the Gongagan brewed sodas and finally loading the tray with chilled steins and a pitcher of beer. Mama Strife had to carry out the alcohol with her son still being underaged, but Cloud was with her to help distribute the cups.

 

“Good evening gentlemen!” She chirped happily. “You’re actually our first customers since the rain started. Beers for you four, don’t worry, I’ll keep it coming, I know the drill.” Cloud kept up his own string of naming the drinks as he set them down so people wouldn’t have to swap. He laid out extra napkins just in case and smirked a little when the seeming youngest of them protested getting a bunch extra. 

 

“It's just because you’re too hyper Zack, everyone can get a read on it.” One commented from across the table. Mama Strife watched them for a moment as she handed out their straws.

 

Immediately Zack had ripped off the end and was trying (and failing) to start a straw wrapper war. Cloud grinned broadly at the disappointed look. “Got those special for teenagers that come in.” Mama Strife quipped. “One floated right onto a burner in the back and set our poor cook on fire.”

 

That wasn’t exactly how it went but Cloud drew their attention, “Is everyone ready to order?” 

  
  
  


Zack had actually been pretty good so far. The chairs weren’t for the enhanced and he hadn’t broken it despite getting the injections only the week before. The Thirds present were all in the same boat and the Seconds just wanted meatballs. Kunsel looked at Zack for a long moment, the corners of his mouth turning up, which alerted the teen just a little too slowly. Kunsel pulled the straw up to his lips and blew hard, the folded end keeping the air in well enough to make the shot accurate. The table erupted into laughter at the quiet slap against Zack’s forehead as the solid end made contact and Zack made a wounded noise.

 

“Kuns! I can’t believe you! You know what?!” Zack was already ripping the paper into sections so he could make it into a spitball, but it was gone in a flash. 

 

“Don’t start Puppy. I can’t afford you breaking another restaurant right now.” He was pouting at his mentor before he really knew what he was doing.

 

“But Angeeeaaaaaaalll.” Another paper straw inserted itself into his ear and he squawked. 

 

“Enough, give me all the paper.” Genesis held a hand out with a glare at all of the others. “I am not doing this tonight. Yes that one too Domino. I refuse to let the evening end like that again.”

 

“You mean sticky?” Lettau chirped.

 

“And banned.” Genesis sniffed, crossing one leg over the other. “I happen to like this place and  _ your _ antics won’t get  _ me _ kicked out.” 

 

Sephiroth remained silent, looking through the menu. He had ordered from this place before but had been called away on an urgent mission before he could even call them back to cancel it. When it got there he just let the receptionist have it and had been too busy ever since. 

 

“We’re doing good so far though. Commander Hewley hasn’t made the chair collapse yet.” Angeal sent Gearhart a half a glare, though he still remember Zack  _ laughing himself sick  _ fondly the first time it happened. 

 

“I picked this spot for a reason. The half booth is stronger than the chairs you’re sitting on.” He commented quietly, fiddling with the paper trash Genesis had taken. 

 

Zack and Gear perked up. “Appetizers incoming!” 

 

Cloud set out the nachos, cheesey fries, and artichoke dip evenly over the table so everyone could reach easily. The last thing he wanted was nacho cheese in his hair again. “Is everyone ok for now?” 

 

He got an enthusiastic chorus of agreements, mostly because mouths were full already and the group had gone silent. The silence of eating always amused him, because even chatty teenagers would quiet when the food arrived. 

 

Behind him, the door jingled and he sprang into action. 

 

“Welcome to Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs, this side is full, but you can pick anything on this side.” He greeted cheerily. 

 

The group of SOLDIERs watched the four take their seats in a private booth away from them. It was another group of SOLDIERs, they could tell, and it seemed to be Lochte and his cohort. Somehow, nothing the four did had ever been pinned on them due to insufficient evidence. However, they had long been off of Slum duty due to rumors of excessive force against Wutai refugees and the like. Knowing the Trinity were in the vicinity, they would usually behave. 

 

Kunsel had the distinct feeling they didn’t actually notice them there.

 

He and Lettau watched as the boy’s demeanor dropped a little, nodding as he took their orders. They were too quiet to hear properly over the sounds from the kitchen and Cloud walked away looking like a pre-teen trying to hide hurt. It wasn’t convincing, but he returned to the kitchen without a word. The pair returned to their food before it was stolen by Zack’s stomach-driven, kleptomaniac hands. 

 

“Hey Kuns, you got cheese on your visor.” Zack spoke with his mouth full, making Angeal frown. 

 

“Huh?” Kunsel didn’t even have cheese, he had the artichoke dip. “Zack, I don’t..” he picked up a napkin to wipe the visor off with and sighed in aggravation when he smeared Zack’s nacho cheese across his line of sight. “I’m gonna kick your ass.” He deadpanned, but it was met with laughter by the others and Domino snorting inelegantly into his beer. 

  
  


The next 20 minutes or so went by quietly as they demolished the appetizers and traded stories of their patrols with one another. The Firsts seemed content to sit back and relax, occasionally murmuring something to one another as they recognized the story in progress by the report they’d reviewed. The boys at the end of the table perked up immensely, looking past their commanding officers as Angeal was admonishing Genesis with, “Don’t steal the boy..”

 

Mama Strife looked Genesis square in the eye and put a fist on her hip. Her arched eyebrow was to be envied as Genesis’ own sought refuge in his hairline. He put his hands in front of himself in surrender, “I wouldn’t dare.” 

 

“That’s what I thought Commander. He’s too good with those spices to give up so easily.” She nodded sagely, the eyebrow coiled to strike relaxing back to a calm doze. Carefully, she placed a plate in front of Angeal, “Zolom steak, medium rare.” 

 

The boy in question stumbled as he walked past and heard her, “Mama!” He looked horrified and had pinked to a cute shade again, managing to not spill anything from the plates he’d precariously stacked on himself. However, instead of pausing to complain he continued on with his tray balanced easily over his head and began to hand out plates at the other end of the table. There, he could at least to pretend to not hear any of it.

 

“Chocobo Wings with creamy farm sauce, Nibelheim meatball kabab with rice, an Evening Wark, sauce is on the side, Corel smoked Zolom, that’s our last one for tonight by the way…” He hummed a soft ‘no problem’ to each ‘thank you’. “House special aaand a Nibelheim potpie.”

 

Cloud stepped away, holding the large tray against himself. “Does anyone need anything? Sauces, refills, napkins…” He looked over the oddly silent group, which seemed to be staring at him. 

 

“Could I please have a side of Nibelberry Balsamic Vinaigrette for my house salad?” Genesis spoke up finally.

 

“Of course! I should have mentioned it before.” Cloud trotted off, his spikes bobbing.

 

Mama Strife spread her hands in front of herself and commented dryly, “I didn’t teach him the head tilt. It just started on Monday.” 

 

“It's… endearing.” Genesis got out.

  
  


Patrick, Cloud, and Mama Strife continued their prep in the back, ears half listening to the murmur of the two groups and listening for the door. Their deliverer for the night was drying a coat near the oven while relaxing on a stool in the corner. They’d come to work around each other smoothly, Manny slipping to get around Patrick and Cloud to fill take-away dishes straight from the source and be out the door quickly. Manny was not just quick on the motorbike, but able to worm out of any situation that might cause delays, including stuck traffic and bad alleys. It was impressive and Cloud had been learning how to do the same so he could deliver to the slums more. As it stood, he tended to stay above plate to avoid excessive harassment. 

 

“Order up for the theater.” Patrick called to Manny. The two moved in tandem and Cloud stood out of the way chopping vegetables. Manny was out the door in no time with a dry jacket and the waterproof food box. 

 

“Mama Strife, I think we’re almost out of paprika.” Patrick piped up again. All three started looking through cabinets and storage in a near panic; it's was an important spice for their dishes. 

 

“Well snot bubbles..” Mama Strife began. “Cloudy, I’m going to run down enough till the next shipment. The delivery company must have missed it. We’ll check the receipt later, so don’t let me forget!”

 

“Yes mama.” Cloud chimed back, looking into even their emergency stash of smoked paprika. Thankfully, the amount in Patrick’s stash would last through closing, but certainly not through preparations for the next day. He wrote it on the marker board anyway as she ducked out into the storm. 

 

His preparations for the moment completed, he waved to Patrick, “I’m going to go check on the front.” 

 

“Don’t let them nasty men grope you!” He teased with a terrible attempt at Cloud’s accent.

 

Cloud smoothed out the weird face as he checked on his larger party first. Their meal was coming to a close but they were lingering in the quiet space to chat. Considering only one other customer had come in, it would be fine for them to stay however long. Plus, c’mon.  _ Sephiroth.  _ He checked in with the single customer, who had really just begun eating, and then checked with the group of four SOLDIER Seconds. 

 

The group was now well on their way to hammered from the amount of brew they’d put away. It wasn’t just the pitcher of beer, but a specialty Nibelheim cocktail Mama Strife created while thinking of home. 

 

“Hey Pretty, another pitcher of beer!” He at least wasn’t looking at him lasciviously, instead likely showing off.

 

Legally, a 15 year old wasn’t supposed to serve alcohol in Midgar, so he told them as much politely and with easy humor to help soften the blow. “Mama will be back soon and I’ll be sure to have her bring it over as quickly as possible.” 

 

“Ahhh, we won’t tell if you don’t!” He was still trying for the good humor to goad it out of him.

 

“Sorry sir. I’ll make sure it's on the house though. There was a minor mishap-” Cloud found himself suddenly reeled in with no chance to dig his heels into the tile floor and he yelped as he nearly fell on top of the closest of them. The wet cloth fell off of his hand in his flailing attempt to balance himself. 

 

The leader’s breath in his face was garlic and alcohol and his hair only avoided curling due to sheer tenacity, “Boy, don’t make me tell you to get the boys another pitcher.” His grip was uncontrolled and grinding the bones in his forearm. “Now!” Cloud was tossed, haphazardly and uncontrolled across the narrow room. A blur confused him as he sailed across the small restaurant and he collided painfully with the wall in an explosion of pain.

 

The silver blur flew at the Seconds, which Cloud registered as the General himself as another shadow covered and gently righted him. As blurry as his vision had become, the sudden snap of adrenaline cleared his vision. He ignored the pain, a soothing voice asking if he was ok, and snagged the tray from the abandoned meal of the single customer. 

 

One of the Seconds was behind the General ready to land a hit as the metal tray slapped over the man’s face. Cloud barely registered that he’d even gotten up, let alone far enough to be in range. He couldn’t control his spin after and his graceless swirl left him stumbling in place. A hand steadied him at his elbow before he crumpled into anything. 

  
  


Kunsel snapped to attention at the same time the Trinity had: when the blond was going to check on the obviously drunk Lochte and co. Zack and Gearhart noticed a moment later in the sudden tense atmosphere and they all seemed to move at the same time.

 

The General was no less deadly without Masamune as he stepped in the moment the boy was yanked in as wind up: yes, it was only meant to be a shove but he was a scrawny 15 year old against an enhanced drunkard. Kunsel knew Lochte had probably done worse to others.

 

Commander Hewley moved to check on the boy without a thought, the mother hen he was, and Zack followed, keeping an eye on the whole thing. Commander Rhapsodos seemed to disappear towards the door, but no one would dare to think he was abandoning the situation. Kunsel moved forward to check for damage control he could provide. 

 

Lochte went down first with a hard palm strike to the sternum. The General grabbed Ackers as he bolted for the door and flipped him with a grace Kunsel took a moment to admire. He was distracted from the destruction of a third when a metallic clang caught his attention. The boy, Cloud, was obviously dazed, but had slammed a solid metal tray hard enough across a Second’s face hard enough to bend it a little. They both collapsed at about the same time. 

 

Zack was there to catch him as he began to go over, Angeal snapping around to catch his other side. Suddenly, Commander Rhapsodos was there herding the final Second back in with a fireball while Sephiroth was tossing the other two into a heap. 

 

“Kid. Kid? Cloudy…” Zack was crouched next to him trying to get through while Angeal checked his head from behind.

 

“Mmm?”

 

“How ya feelin’ buddy?” Though hyperactive, Zack was always good at this part. “You in there?”

 

Kunsel felt the breeze of Mama Strife passing by with a breathed “Cloudy.” She hovered but at least stayed out of the way. 

 

“Mm. Mmhm.” Even his noncommittal humming was slurred. 

 

“You wanna focus on me for a moment kiddo?” Blue met Magenta eyes and Zack smiled a little. Cloud returned it as though drunk himself.  

 

Commander Rhapsodos stepped up next to Hewley and looked over the bloody lump on the blond’s head. He said lowly, “I’ll take this one.” He cast the Cure skillfully behind Cloud’s head where he was nonsensically chatting with Zack about the burn on his hand, which rapidly disappeared. Mama Strife stood over his shoulder.

 

“Hiya Mama.” Cloud said softly, obviously loopy. She waved two fingers at him with an encouraging, if wobbly, smile.

 

Hewley spoke up with a wry, “Zack, I don’t think you’re in much of a position to call him kiddo.” At 17, he really wasn’t. Cloud was in the best hands he could imagine at the moment, so he lightened the mood.

 

“Hey! He’s still younger and look at that baby face.”

 

Kunsel snorted, “You’re one to talk.”

 

“Can it can-head.” Ahh, Zack’s favorite insult.

 

“Original.”

 

“Ow.. ow ow..” The group stopped their sniping as the little waiter came back around.

 

“Good morning. How are you feeling?” Zack released his head.

 

Cloud groaned softly, slowly turning red from embarrassment. “If you could stop talking. My head is killing me.” 

 

Commander Rhapsodos moved off to give them some space and Zack sat back on his heels. Kunsel watched as he began to speak with Sephiroth in hushed, serious tones. He turned at the sound of footsteps retreating towards the counter and moved to check on the cook.

  
  


He couldn’t quite figure out if the fuzzy noise retreating to the feeling of a sledgehammer on his brain was really any better. Cloud could at least control his responses a little better around his heroes and wasn’t giddy anymore though, so he would gamble it was the right direction. Lieutenant Fair’s voice hurt to hear though, at least at the volume. He lowered it, thankfully. 

 

Then he blinked and  _ remembered _ . “Did I hit someone with a tray?” 

 

Zack barely controlled his cackle and leaned past Cloud. He looked up at his mom and the look of shock on her face, quickly covered by a hand, told him enough. “Buddy, you wrapped it around his face. Can I have this? I want to display it in my apartment.” 

 

Cloud stared at the tray, at a total loss for words. He was suddenly aware of the presence behind him and twisted (carefully) to look at him. “Thanks for catching me.” 

 

“Of course. We’ll deal with these four and make sure they’re far away from Midgar soon.” The Commander rumbled when he talked, Cloud noticed first. “Think you can stand?”

 

He nodded his response and shifted to stand on his own, but the bear of a man was there with an easy assist. The room didn’t spin or anything, but it did jerk a little when he was suddenly surrounded by his mother’s bear hug; she was still just a little taller than him, dammit.

 

“Cloudy, what happened? I was just running to the spice market down the street and I come back to this ruckus.” She wasn’t lecturing him as much as venting her fear of him getting hurt and he knew it. He squeezed her gently and said softly. “I’m ok. It was just some rowdy customers.”

 

She released him and looked like she wanted to shake him and Cloud colored because both the Lieutenant and Commander were watching the whole exchange. Mama Strife finally looked away from her son to address Hewley. “Well… no matter. Commander, thank you for taking care of him.” 

 

Cloud almost slid away to let them chat, but she caught him in a grip that was too strong to break but gentle enough to not hurt: he called it the Mama Bear Claw. Thankfully, the General interrupted the likely decline of conversation. 

 

“Mrs. Strife, we’re deeply sorry for the altercation. Commander Rhapsodos has already called the head of our department to start their termination paperwork.” The General’s tone was oddly clipped while trying to be soothing. Cloud wasn’t sure what to make of that yet.

 

She was all business in the way that endeared them to the Upper Plate, “General, I’m sure they’ll get everything they deserve. I have one request.”

 

“Yes ma’am.” He was also all business now.

 

“Call me Mama Strife.” Zack’s hand slapped over his own mouth again to hide his giggling.

 

“Very well, Mama Strife.” It sounded very weird coming from him, but she was totally unphased. “By the time we return, they will have a cell awaiting them and papers in the morning to see them out of the program. Please accept my sincerest apologies for their behavior.” 

 

Mama Strife smiled and set her hand on Cloud’s shoulder to keep him from melting away from his hero, “Apology accepted General. Every herd has a bad chocobo. Besides, this one’s been watching the news to see you for ages. It's probably been a good night overall.” 

 

“Mama!” Cloud tried to flail away, ears flaming, but her grip tightened and held him upright with no effort at all. He covered his face with his hands muttering a very soft, low ‘whhhyyyy?’ that all of the SOLDIERs heard anyway. 

 

“Actually,” the General turned and held a hand out for the tray that Lettau had been inspecting with amusement. “This is impressive. Have you considered joining Shinra for the SOLDIER program? I can’t say I’ve ever seen a civilian wrap metal around someone’s head.” 

 

He peeked between his fingers, registering a small amount of amusement on his hero’s face. After a moment he found his voice under the weight of so many eyes on him. “At one point, yes, but.. We wanted to do this instead I guess. I can’t really imagine leaving this anymore.” 

 

The General turned the tray, looking over the face face print in it. “If you happen to change your mind, you’d be a good addition.”

 

Cloud obviously couldn’t find his voice, so Zack piped up, “Seriously dude, I’ve never seen someone pull something like that while fighting a head injury. Especially someone outside of SOLDIER. I wouldn’t want to be on your bad side.” 

 

Mentally, Cloud was flailing and trying to hide it. “No- I… Thanks? For healing my head, I mean.” He said this to all of them because he wasn’t sure who had actually done anything. “I can’t really finish the shift concussed so, it's really appreciated.” 

 

The silence in the room made him realize he’d said something weird again.

 

“Sephiroth, hire him to teach Zack work ethic.” The Red Commander spoke up from the pile of miscreants. “He might actually learn to do paperwork.” 

 

The Thirds and Seconds broke into snickers over the Lieutenant’s complaints, Commander Hewley grinning apologetically from where he’d moved to.

 

“If we could get the cheque for our food, those four, and the gentleman that left, we will get out of your hair for the evening.” Hewley said quietly to Mama Strife. 

 

“It's no problem, but I’ll go ahead and get it settled. Cloudy, go upstairs and wash your hair, dear.” She released his shoulder with a gentle pat. “Patrick and I will clean up down here. It isn’t much.”

 

The Thirds and Seconds were all heading back to the table with Zack in tow, looking over his shoulder at the three, while Mama Strife was chatting amicably with Commander Hewley as she rang up the bill. Cloud stood awkwardly before a scrutinizing General, but got himself under control, hands clasped in front of himself.

 

“Sir, while I don’t think he meant to throw me that hard, thank you for jumping in to stop it.” He stopped his rocking on his feet, squeezing his hands together. 

 

The General nodded curtly. “I fully expect the men under my command to adhere to the highest standards. When they do not, I ensure they learn. You have done us a favor by giving us a reason to retire Captain Lochte. He has been on my radar for some time.” 

 

Cloud smiled awkwardly, mostly happy to be able to speak with his hero and responded with his earlier brightness returning, “Always happy to be of help!” The beat of silence made him realize he needed to get out more. “Uh… I think I’m gonna go clean up my head.. Thank you for stopping at our restaurant. We’ll look forward to seeing you again!” He meant it too and his heart thudded weirdly with the very small smile he saw on the General.

 

“Have a good evening, Commander.” He said to the Crimson Commander as he passed by, offering a little bow. 

 

“You too, little bird.” He replied fondly. Cloud didn’t even have the chance to be irritated with the new nickname as he headed into the kitchen and up to the second floor.

 

Zack called from the table as he was pulling his jacket on, “We’re getting delivery and asking for him right?” 

 

“Of course.” Genesis replied breezily. 

**Author's Note:**

> This has actually been in the works since August 2016, but I couldn't bring myself to start the action sequence for some reason. :v If the voice changes weirdly, that's probably why. 
> 
> Didact is still coming! I just started a new job so I didn't get to do the chapter last weekend like I wanted to. It would have been all sorts of squirrely and funky if I'd attempted it.


End file.
